Chapter 9 #2
“Ashley.” Jessica looked her straight in the eye and pursed her lips. “What are you not telling me?”
“Okay, so he’s kinda cute.”
“Wow. I haven’t heard you refer to anyone as ‘cute’ since, well, I don’t remember.”
“Neither do I!” Ashley grinned. “You’ll get to meet him, then you can tell me if he’s cute or not. Although he’s cute in a nerdy kind of way. Tousled hair, horn-rimmed glasses, which keep slipping down his nose.”
“I take it you spent some time together when you were here?”
“Yes. He was my escort. Showed me around the college, and made a few introductions, and took me to dinner the night before I came home.”
Jessica folded her arms and tilted her head. “Oh?”
Ashley mimicked her mother. “Oh, nothing. It was enjoyable. I know I can learn a lot from him.”
Jessica wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll expect a report card.”
“Oh, stop, Mother. I am here for research, not men.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a horrible idea.”
“Mother, I have come such a long way with my studies. I don’t want to be derailed now by romance.”
“It doesn’t have to be serious. It can be fun. A companion.” Jessica paused. “Much like me and Noah.”
“Aha! Noah! What is the deal between the two of you?”
“Didn’t we have this conversation already?” Jessica reminded Ashley.
“Yes, and if I recall correctly, you said, and I quote, ‘not yet!’”
“And there you have it.” Jessica snickered. “It’s fun to think about, but it’s not the endgame. All I am suggesting is that you enjoy companionship when you can. We are not meant to be an island.”
Ashley thought for a moment. Have I been an island all these years? Exactly when did I have my last date? She couldn’t remember. “How about if I play it by ear? Let the chips fall where they may.”
“Speaking of chips, let’s have some for lunch.” Jessica changed the subject.
“Right! After my little snooze.”
It was close to noon when the two of them awoke from their nap.
Ashley bolted upright and announced she was commandeering the shower.
Jessica ordered up some tea and biscuits to hold them over.
She knew it would be at least another hour before they were “presentable.” She made a note to ask the concierge where they could have afternoon tea after their visit to the Southbank Centre.
Fifteen minutes later Ashley exited the bathroom wrapped in a robe. “All yours, Mum!” She was practicing her British lingo.
A knock at the door signaled the delivery of their snacks. The two women enjoyed the light refreshment and then Jessica took over the bathroom. It was close to one o’clock when they were both finally ready to head downstairs.
When they reached the lobby, they approached the concierge and asked if he could recommend a good place for fish and chips. The young man chuckled. “Ye can’t find a bad place for fish and chips here. They’ll throw you in the nick.”
Ashley knew he was referring to jail and laughed. “We’re planning to go to Southbank Centre Winter Market to do some shopping.”
The concierge raised his chin. “If you were to ask me where you should go, I would recommend Covent Garden. It’s quite marvelous. A cab will take approximately fifteen minutes.” He went on to describe the area:
“At the heart of the district is the elegant, car-free Piazza, home to a range of fashion stores and a grand Christmas tree decorated with giant ornaments. There’s the Apple Market, and I don’t mean electronics.
It holds a variety of craft stalls with unique handmade goods if you are seeking originality. ”
Jessica looked at Ashley. “I would venture to guess this young man knows what he’s talking about.”
As if he had put on his tour-guide hat he continued.
“The Royal Opera House is there and it’s open.
It’s worth a peek. Then there’s St. Paul’s Cathedral where street entertainers perform.
” He stopped to take a breath. “It’s festive, and cozy.
I promise you will enjoy it much more than the Southbank Centre. ”
Ashley smiled at him. “Do you conduct tours?”
“Not recently, but I would recommend you finish your day with a bus tour of the Christmas lights. I would be happy to make a reservation for you.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Jessica replied. “So, we’ll take a cab to Covent Garden, get some fish and chips. They do serve fish and chips there, don’t they?”
The man grinned. “They serve them everywhere, but I have two places I’d recommend.” He printed the names on a card. “Rock and Sole Plaice is the oldest fish and chips pub, and J. Sheekey is a bit more upscale.”
Jessica was quite impressed. “You have been a godsend, Nathan.” She noticed his name tag on his lapel.
“Shall I reserve seats for the bus tour?”
“Absolutely.”
“Splendid. The bus pickup area is quite close to Covent Garden. You’ll see a sign.” He printed the name of the tour on another card. “When you leave the hotel, you will find a cab station to your left.”
“Thank you again,” Jessica said, and Ashley repeated the words of appreciation.
“Mind as you go and have a lovely day,” he said with the most eloquent British accent.
“This is great!” Ashley peeped. “A new itinerary simply because we asked for fish and chips.”
Swindon
Henry
Henry walked to the post office on his way back from the dairy farm. He opted for an early morning shift so he could have the better side of the day ahead.
England is known for its overcast and rainy weather, especially in the winter months.
Even though Swindon seldom gets snow, it’s cold and damp with the temperatures rarely climbing above 44 degrees, and daylight is less than eight hours.
Henry wanted to make the most of it. It appeared to be a bit of a drier day, so he would bring a book to the park and read something classic, until the light began to dim.
When he arrived at the post office he handed a well-sealed envelope to the clerk.
It was addressed to Michael Malone; an alias Oliver chose for himself.
Malone was an FBI agent who had infiltrated Al Capone’s mob, which ultimately led to Capone’s arrest. Oliver thought it was symbolic, and perhaps, one day, he could take down the felonious high-court judge. Henry hoped for the same.
After the clerk took the parcel from Henry he handed Henry a letter. It was from Oliver. For ten years this was the only way Henry could stay in the periphery of his family. The far periphery. If that’s what you could call it.
Once Henry left the post office, he walked to the local park and planted himself in his usual place on one of the benches.
People would come and go. Everyone acknowledged each other, but not usually by name.
It was mostly a “good afternoon,” or a “hello,” but no names had been shared.
Before the incident Henry was a rather social fellow.
Now he was mostly a loner who worked at the dairy farm and liked to read Shakespeare in the park.
He set the book next to him and opened the letter.
Hello Mate,
Hope you’re holding up. Thought you’d like to know Emily has started her first course at Cambridge. She has turned into a brilliant, beautiful young woman. You would be proud. Kathleen is starting a new job teaching at a private school. She says they’re all brats.
There’s an investigation going on concerning the judge. It might not be particularly good for him. I shall keep you posted.
Your best mate,
Mike M.
Henry’s chest filled with pride and regret. If only he could see his darling Emily, and his beloved wife. Henry looked up at the sky. At that moment there was a break in the clouds and a glimmer of sunlight danced across his face. He took it as a sign. A good one, he hoped.
Emily
Two days before Emily was planning to leave Cambridge, Blair called and invited her to meet for coffee.
She was a bit disappointed thinking they were merely going back to their casual relationship: coffee, chinwag, biscuits.
She resigned herself to accept their date was a one-time event. At least she had fun.
When she arrived at the café, Blair was sitting at a table.
A bouquet of mixed greens and red flowers were next to his elbow.
He must have bought them for someone, Emily thought, never imagining they were meant for her.
This was too casual. He stood as she approached him, pecked her on the cheek, and presented her with the lovely holiday foliage.
She was stunned. Maybe this is going to be one of those “goodbye” gestures.
Men have been known to do that. Take a woman to dinner and break up with her.
Of course, women have been known to do the same.
Now people either ghost you or send you a breakup text.
She wasn’t sure what the flowers meant, but she graciously accepted the token.
“How lovely. Thank you.” She held them to her nose. The scent of spruce harkened back to the Christmas Tree Maze, and she decided to remind Blair. She was anxious to hear his reaction. But then again, maybe not. “This smells like the maze at the market.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Blair said. And? Emily thought. Blair pulled the chair out for her to sit. “The minute I caught the scent it reminded me of you.”
“How lovely,” she repeated. Emily was rarely at a loss for words, but something about Blair made her tongue-tied. She gave the bouquet another sniff. “Really, quite thoughtful of you.”
“My pleasure,” Blair said and smiled. “I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed our evening together. I haven’t done much of anything social since I’ve been here. In fact, our coffees are probably the only thing I’ve done.”
Clearly he doesn’t have a girlfriend, Emily thought, then privately chided herself. Relationships are out of the question.
“I’ll be leaving for Edinburgh in a few days and wanted to see you before holiday break. What are your plans besides seeing yer mum?”
“I’m not sure. We usually have a few friends over for a roast. Nothing over-the-top.”
“You never mentioned your father, or is that a sensitive subject?”